Sometimes I feel inside out. Like the parts that are supposed to be on the inside are on the outside. When I was 18 I got the cartilage in my ear pierced and it didn’t hurt when the needle went through. It didn’t hurt when he put the earring in. But when I went outside it stung. Maybe it was the chill in the Boston air. But the way I explained it to myself is that a little bit of my insides were exposed to the air. And it stung.
I live with my insides on the outside. Lucy called me Mama this week and I wept. Emily realized that I want every single extra minute she will give me and I held her hand tight and tried not to cry. The littlest moments make my heart sing. These moments don’t have to wind their way down deep in to my heart and soul to touch me because my heart and soul is right underneath my skin. Sometimes it is even on the outside of my skin holding itself together with nothing but sheer will.
When there is this much good, this much joy, this much Christmas spirit and this much love in your day to day it is harder to reconcile when the Sad rolls through. Usually I exercise the Sad away. Bicep curls make me feel like a bad bitch. Even if I do those bicep curls in my living room while I watch Rikki Lake and listen to Katy Perry somehow I still walk away feeling strong. Because I made the time. For me. Because I am important.
I have been busy. I have run errands. I have made Christmas ornaments and cooked holiday meals and wrapped gifts. I have not exercised much at all in ten days. And I have cried. Holy shit, I have cried. And I have lied by omission. “How was your day?” he asks me when he gets home from work.
“It was great! I hung the stockings!”
But it was not great. It is hard to throw yourself a Pity Party when you are married to a realist. This morning I gave up the act. I tried to tell him this morning about my bad case of the Sad and without forethought I blurted out “I don’t feel special.” Before I could stop myself I pointed out that he will surely tell me that no one is special and we will all be eaten by the worms some day.
Sometimes when you lean on the people you love they give you what you need. The last time I felt paralyzed with fear MQD gave me just what I needed. He gave me strength. I was trying to mentally wrap my mind around having a baby last January. I was in labor and I was scared. “You’re a bad ass, Kelly. You just can’t be too much of a pussy today to be a bad ass.”
This morning I was wallowing. “But the worms will never have had a meal JUST LIKE YOU,” he said.
He’s right. 
Hey, Sad! Yeah, you with the swollen eyes and the runny nose and the bad mood, I’m talking to you, Sad. I have seasonally inappropriate toenails now and I am taking back the reins. You can kiss my ass, Sad, my sweaty ass while I do a million jump squats in my living room and evict you.
Even if it is sixty-some degrees outside it is Christmastime, Sad. I have a sweet, sweet husband and a big girl that makes me laugh. My baby girl has started saying mama and she kisses with tongue. Things around here actually pretty great. You gotta roll out, Sad.
Excitement on the side 
I truly understand what you’re feeling – so sorry you’re going through this. It really sucks to cry for what seems like no reason at all. Just know that this transition and all the emotions are getting you ready for where you’re truly suppose to be.
I’ve been divorced for 5 years and this is the year that my son goes to his dad’s for the holidays. The sadness started last Sunday and now I just want it to be Dec 26th so everything can be over and I can go back to feeling ‘normal’ again.
BUT good to see you’re kicking SAD’s butt down the street :)
It is such a cliche that holidays are not about the day… but Christmas is whenever you celebrate it. I hop you will be with family. xo
Yeah I agree, I try to look at it that way too.
I just realized I started venting on your comments section, guess your words hit home with me and I’ve been feeling some sadness too.
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Peace out, Sad. Happy is moving in!
You got that right!
Yeah, and what is with the weather this week!? It makes me mad and sad too.
You are a super bad ass!
In high school/college you always seemed to be the girl who had her shit together and was taking the world by storm, and I was forever amazed/in awe/occasionally jealous — I love reading about your continued adventures in awesomeness, but I also love learning that you’re human, too. I think it makes you even cooler. :)
It means a lot to me to dump it all out there. The burden of pretending to have my shit together was heavy. Way easier now. :) And dude, could I get cooler? ;)
I guess I need to tell “Pissed Off” to GTFO, because he’s been hanging around over a week. :)
Pissed Off is even more stubborn than Sad.
It is definitely one thing that a good toe polishin’ doesn’t seem to drive out. I want to kick the shit out of my heavy bag, but haven’t been able to do that due to this cold I’m still carrying around. Soon though. . .vengeance shall be mine!!
Your painted toenails made me happy today. That was worth it for me. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks! Hot pink goes a long way.
I feel like the title of this post should be on a poster. I would totally buy one.
Agreed. I might also need a shirt.
It’s super hard when we know what helps keep the sad at bay, but the sad keeps us from doing whatever that is.
Get you some exercise, and then a shower. And then some lipstick (which you can then kiss on to the cheeks of your daughters! Pics or it didn’t happen…). Go, you have work to do!
Yes, m’aam.
Ah, seasonally inappropriate toenails. What a way with words you have! Lovely, all of it.
:)
You have perfectly good straight toes. I’ll take your Sad on my shoulders today…if I can borrow your toes the next time I need perfectly good straight toes…like…now? It’s a win-win…yes?
You wouldn’t rather have long straight toes in the summer in flip-flops?
Well that last paragraph just made me decidedly happy today. You go on, girl, tell that Sad what’s what.
Will do!
Kelly,
I had a behind the scene peek at this post. You know where I stand… The door is always opened for you.
Much love, friend.
L’Éric
Thank you, sir. :)